


Girls On Film

by Malmo722



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Sex, F/M, Modeling, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malmo722/pseuds/Malmo722
Summary: After insulting every major supermodel in the business, world renowned fashion photographer, Jughead Jones, is paired with up-and-coming model, Betty Cooper.





	1. Fire In Her Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Birdlovesafish (Motherbirdnerd)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Motherbirdnerd/gifts).



> I know nothing about the modelling/photography world. Most of my knowledge comes from America’s Next Top Model. I’m really sorry this is so long. Also, I have nothing against any of the models mentioned in this story. 
> 
> I also edited this myself so prepare for errors.

"Cara cancelled." Veronica Lodge informed her boss Jughead Jones.

"Why?" He asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone. He looked at a variety of different lenses with his assistant photographer, Sabrina Spellmen, a tiny, blonde wannabe photographer.

"She found out you were the one shooting and pulled out." Veronica gathered her dark brown hair into a ponytail, faking nonchalance as she waited for more questions from the world most sought after fashion photographer.

"Why would she do that?" He questioned, handing Sabrina suitcases full of equipment. "We took such beautiful pictures together." He lied.

"She doesn't really remember it that way." Veronica crossed her jean clad legs, letting her foot bounce. "She remembers a large argument where you called her 'a fucking brain dead meat sack with a pretty face' and she told you to go fuck yourself and then you called her a cunt." Veronica raised her eyebrows. "Do you remember that, Jug? Cause I do and apparently so does Cara and she didn't take so kindly to it."

He placed his clenched fists on the table. “I asked her to look wistful and I asked her if she knew what that meant and she nodded.” He turned to look at Veronica. “And instead of wistful, I got constipated. Thank god she's beautiful and I could salvage the shoot.” He pulled on his suspenders as he walked around his bright living room. “How about instead of giving the models free clothes at the end of each shoot we hand them a fucking dictionary.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Its bullshit, they go on about my temper but does anyone say anything about their mediocrity? Just because they are hot doesn't mean they are models. We aren't just selling clothes, we are selling a lifestyle and if I can't get girls who can take direction then I can't do my job.” He untied his flannel button down from around his waist, discarding it on the bed. “I need girls with fire in their eyes.”

“Well, I'm not sure what you are getting today but I've heard good things.” Veronica stood up and pulled out a portfolio. She placed it on the coffee table and pushed it over to him. “She walked the runway for Dolce and Gabanna, Elie Saab and Dior last season.”

“I don’t give a shit about runway.” He snapped approaching her.

“She's a former ballerina but she quit because she was too tall.”

“How tall?”

“Six feet and because she used to dance she’s very flexible and good with her body.” Veronica informed.  “She’s done editorial in Vogue, Elle, W and Paper Magazine.”  

“Let me see her face.”

Veronica moved out of the way and let him browse the portfolio. The first thing Jughead noticed was her body, you could tell how tall she was without scale and Veronica was right, she knew how to move and pose it. The only problem was the photographers didn’t know to photograph her properly. They made her look awkward and gangly.

He turned the page to see a shot of just her face. Her blonde hair was slicked back and she had honey running down her face, dripping off her eyelashes and mouth. She had a strong jaw line, cheekbones that most models would die for, pouty lips, and green-blue eyes that looked like that were churning in the still image.

That is what he wanted. That was fire.

“What’s her name?” He asked.

“Elizabeth Cooper,” Veronica said looking at her nails.

“And we have her?” Jughead moved away from the table and grabbed his bag.

“She is on site right now in hair and make-up, waiting for you.” Veronica packed everything up realizing they were about to leave. Sabrina was piling bags and boxes up near the door.

“This is what I'm talking about.” He pointed at the portfolio. “Finally a model I can actually work with.” He grabbed his sunglasses and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I should start calling people cunts more often, this really worked out for me.” He grinned.

“I really wish you wouldn't.” Veronica muttered, as the three of them left his house and headed to the site.

When they finally arrived Jughead spent some time looking at the site, a large field full of purple flowers an hour drive outside L.A. He made suggestions on where to place silks and screens and the order they were going to photograph the dresses. He was shooting a spread for next months Vogue featuring the clothing of Jake Meridian. He was familiar with the designer and knew he was about to deal with a lot of sparkly, sheer dresses with epic trains.

After that he went to her trailer. When he entered she was being fitted. She was wearing a long sleeved red lace dress that covered her from clavicle to toe. The lace was see through and she was nude underneath. On the back of the dress was a large red silk bow with a twelve foot long train.

“Elizabeth Cooper?” He made it sound like a question but knew it was her.

She turned to look at him. Her lips were as red as the dress she was wearing and her eye make-up was black, covering the area around her eyes like a mask. Her hair was smoothed into shiny voluminous blonde waves. “Jughead Jones.” She stated leaning back to shake his hand.

“I'll be shooting you today.” He informed.

“I look forward to working with you.” She gave him a tight lipped smile and straightened so she could finish being sewed into the dress.

“Five more minutes.” The dresser promised and Jughead left, taking it as a dismissal.

Sabrina handed him his camera, already calibrated, having done light meter tests. He took a few more shots before Elizabeth was beside him. “Do you have any instruction?” She asked seriously.

She was nearly as tall as his 6’3 and had a presence he hadn't felt in a long time. “You are going to stand on that ladder and we are going to place fans everywhere to get the train flowing. I need you to do what comes naturally. Sabrina will be shouting direction at you as well.” He motioned towards his assistant. “Is that okay, Elizabeth?” He asked.

She looked at him, she had the fire in her eyes he saw in the picture. “You can call me, Betty.” She smiled. She turned and headed towards the ladder, three people behind her keeping the delicate silk from snagging on the ground.

The fans were put in place so the train was shooting straight up behind her.

“You ready, Betty?” He asked as he knelt in front of her to take the photo from a low perspective, getting most of her body in the shot.

She nodded, raising her arms to fan out the train and frame her within the shot. He hands were natural but not claw like as she fingered the silk. Her body arched slightly to line up perfectly with the edge of the train and her neck was long, following the same arch as the rest of her. The lace showcased her body further as the sun shone through it making it even more sheer. As amazing as her form was it was her face that made the shot incredible.

Her eyes looked off into the horizon and they weren't squinted even though she was looking towards the sun. She had an intensity that he hadn’t seen before, a powerful woman wearing a beautiful dress and not a pretty face being swallowed by a couture gown. Her lips were pouty but not sexual and her cheekbones cut like a knife casting mesmerizing shadows across her face.

She changed her angle from time to time and moved her hands away from the train, placing them on her hips and leaning forward. She never lost her lines, she knew her angles and none of her body was muddled in any shot.

He called for a new set up after twenty-five minutes.

“What's going on?” Veronica asked, after Betty had gone to change into the second dress.

“What do you mean?” He asked changing his lens.

“You always take forty-five minutes minimum per shot. You are not known for speed.”

“She's easy to photograph. I don't have to pull anything from her.” He looked over at his personal assistant. “Are you mad that I'm working too quickly?”

“No, I'm just shocked. I've never seen you work this well before.” Veronica observed.

“Keep getting me real models and this will be the result every time.” He took the camera and walked over to where they would be taking the next set of photos leaving Veronica alone.

Betty had six different dresses to wear and every set up resulted in more of the same. Perfect lines, perfect poses and a perfect face.

For the last photograph of the day she was back on the ladder in a flowing black dress with a train just as long as the first one. Jughead angled her towards the setting sun wanting to get a wide shot to capture the whole train.

She ascended the ladder and placed one foot on a higher step than the other. She began to lean back as if she was arching herself against an imaginary counter. The long black train was perfectly parallel to the ground and he hair was being blown slightly through the silk. Her arms were up over her head against the train like she was lying against it. Her makeup was still dark but softer than the black mask they had started with. Her eyes were directed up towards the sky as if god was parting the clouds and was looking at her and she was looking right back. The ladder was being hidden by the grass and dress and it looked like she was defying gravity.

It was by far the most beautiful photo he had ever taken.

He took a few more photos as she moved in different positions but he knew he had it. “We’re done.” He announced passing his camera off to Sabrina.

He watched her be helped down and escorted back to the trailer.

Veronica approached him. “You liked working with her.” She stated.

“Can you get a ride back with Sabrina.” He asked, ignoring her previous comment.

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “For sure and good luck with her but I don’t think this is going to go the way you want.” She winked and sauntered over to Sabrina, helping her pack up the equipment.

Jughead headed over to Betty’s trailer and knocked.

“Come in!” She shouted.

She was sitting in front off the mirror slathering lotion all over her face. All the makeup was gone and her hair was in a messy bun at the top of her head. She was wrapped in a lilac silk robe, far too short for a girl of her height. The model he had spent the entire day with was gone and the girl next door sat before him.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked rubbing the cream into her face.

“Would you like to ride back to the city with me? Maybe get a drink?” He was nervous which was unusual for him. Jughead Jones didn’t get nervous when it came to asking out beautiful women.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you asking me out?” A small smirk tugged at her lips.

“If your answer is going to be yes, then yeah, I’m asking you out.” He tugged on his hair and gave her his signature cocky grin.

She turned to face him. “Yeah, you can take me out for a drink. Give me ten minutes.”

He nodded. “I’ll be outside.” He turned and left the trailer so she could dress.

Five minutes later she emerged wearing tight black jeans, a black tank top with balcony cups to extenuate her breasts and black velvet high heeled boots. Her hair was slicked into a ponytail and she had slipped a pair of sunglasses onto her face. She looked how a model should look, showcasing the product. She didn’t have the smugness half of the reality TV star models he always had to work with had. Betty was a girl that could turn that something special on and off. To go from the only girl in the room to just another face in the crowd. She knew the difference between her job and her life.

“Is there anywhere you want to go?” He asked.

She was his height with the boots on. “I know a place.” She grinned.

An hour later they were sitting in a dimly lit hole in the wall. It could fit close to fifteen people seated and forty if people stood. A jazz trio played quietly on the cramped stage at the back of the bar. He had a scotch on the rocks while she sipped the dirtiest martini he had ever seen.

“How long have you been modelling?” He asked.

“Since I was eighteen.”

“And how old are you now?”

“24.” She took one of the olives between her teeth and pulled it off the cheap plastic sword they were skewered on.

“You look younger.” Jughead told her.

“Lucky me.” She quipped.

Jughead took a deep breath and tried another approach. “How come you’ve never modelled for me before?” He inquired. “A girl like you, your face, your body. You’re a photographers wet dream.”

“I have modelled for you.”

Jughead stilled for a moment and wondered if he slept with this girl years ago and had completely forgotten. He wondered if he was about to get a dirty martini thrown in his face.

She continued. “Well, I would have if you didn’t look me straight in the eye and tell me I looked too midwestern.” She spat. “You looked at me like I was garbage.”

“When was this?” He sat straight up.

“Two years ago.” She finished her drink and motioned for another.

“Did you grow? Loose weight? Change your face?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “Nope, I looked just as I do now. I was a dancer since I was four so I developed strict eating habits young and when I was thirteen I shot up to the height I am now.” She accepted her drink and handed the waitress her empty glass.

“There’s no way I would have passed over you. You’re the most interesting model I’ve ever worked with.” He shook his head still not believing her.

“Maybe you just didn’t have any vision.” She raised her eyebrows in a challenging way.

He glared at her. “I’m a renowned fashion photographer. I didn’t get here by just pointing a camera and clicking.”

“Didn’t you? It’s not hard to make beautiful girls look beautiful. The sets are already set up for you and if any of the photos today were gorgeous that’s me knowing how to move my body. You just picked a lens and pressed a button.” Her eyes widened and she ate her olives. “I fucking hate L.A. It’s too muggy here.”

He stared at her. No one, especially not an aspiring model, had spoken to him like that. His heart was racing as he looked at her, completely indifferent to his presence. By this time in the evening most of the girls were begging for him to take them home.

He finished his drink and asked for another while she continued.

“I also live with seven models, four of which have been photographed by you. I know your reputation.” She cocked an eyebrow.

Along with his temper Jughead was known for bedding nearly every girl he worked with.

“I’m sorry I was rude to you before, I can be an asshole. I can also admit when I was wrong and I was wrong about you. As for your friends...” He trailed off.

Betty shook her head.“Look, I have always been a big fan of your work,” she continued, “but when I started hearing stories about who you were as a person and I hoped they weren’t true. I’ve witnessed your cruelty first hand and I’ve seen more than one girl cry her eyes out over you.” Betty took a sip of her drink. “I have no interest in being just another girl in a photo you keep as a trophy.”

He squinted at her. “You wanna come home with me?”

A chuckle escaped her lips and she shook her head. “Are you fucking serious?” She scoffed. “Are you not listening to me?”

“No, not for that, you bruised my ego. I want to show you some of my work.” He said honestly.

“I’m sure you do.” She sighed. “It was really nice meeting you but I have no interest in you like that. Maybe one day we’ll work together again.” She downed her drink. “I have a 5am flight back to New York in the morning so I really have to go.” She revealed as she got up and walked out of the bar.

Jughead threw down a few twenties and chased after her. “Betty!” He shouted.

She turned and looked at him. Even in the harsh florescent light of store front signs she looked incredible. Her movements flowed like water, her eyes focused and direct, her imperfections making her more interesting to look at. “What?” She said as she hailed a cab.

“I need to photograph you again.” He confessed. “The people who are shooting you don’t know how to handle you. They are boxing you in.”

She looked downward. “If it’s meant to be we’ll meet again. Maybe your next shoot will be mid-west themed.” She looked up at him. “Good night, Mr. Jones.” She turned and got into the taxi.

He stood there, watching the car drive down the street until it got lost in LA traffic and he couldn’t see it anymore.


	2. Muse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also edited this myself so prepare for errors.

“Sports Illustrated called and they want you for the cover of the swimsuit issue.” Betty’s agent, Kevin Keller, explained over the phone.

“Aren’t I a little bony?” She asked but what she really meant was flat chested. She was blessed to have full C cup breasts considering how svelte her frame was but she was no where near the Sports Illustrated levels of busty.

“The photographer asked for you.” Kevin said.

Betty was in the middle of gathering her text books, her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear. “Which photographer?” She asked slamming them down on her desk, stirring her roommate.

“Jughead Jones.” Betty could hear Kevin smirking through the phone. She told him about the incident she had with Jughead.

It had been four months since her shoot with the famous photographer and she had a surge in bookings. High end shoots working with the Hadid sisters, Jordan Dunn, Lily Aldridge and Miranda Kerr. She scored a full page in Harper's Bazaar when they did a profile on ten models to watch. They put her in pointe shoes, a flowing Zuhair Murad dress and made her dance. There was a tiny blurb about her under a title that read ‘The Face. The Body. The Blonde.’.  She was even featured in a Zayn music video as “The Girl” after Gigi recommended Betty to her pop star boyfriend.  

Everyone wanted to work with the model who made Jughead Jones great again.

“When, where, how much?” She asked.

“You’ll have to leave in two days, it’s in Aruba and they are going to give you $25,000. It’s two days work, you’ll be in Aruba for three.”

Betty knew it would be huge for her career if she was on the cover of Sports Illustrated. She would have huge runway, editorial and swimsuit jobs under her belt. She could continue to pay for school, complete it at her own pace and have a huge chunk of savings to fall back on. Having a famous photographer in her back pocket could be beneficial as well.

She couldn't lie to herself, she had been thinking of Jughead a lot over the four months they had been apart. There was something about him that rooted itself in her mind and would not let go. She wasn't sure if it was his handsome face, a face that could have found a place on the other side of the camera or if it was his confidence. It could have been fact that he was very good at his job or the flashes of vulnerability he showed her when she started to critique him and his work. She still felt bad about what she had said and wanted to apologize. Everything that had happened to her in the whirlwind four months had happened because of him.

“If they can pay me $50,000, I’ll do it.” She said hanging up the phone and heading to class.

A day later Kevin got back to her with a confirmation that they were willing to pay her the $50,000.

The day after that she was on a plane flying into Aruba’s capital Oranjestad.

She was put up in a suite in a five star hotel and was told she was allowed to order and watch whatever she’d like. Sports Illustrated was covering everything.

She was set to meet Jughead and the two other models she would be photographed with, Emily Ratajkowski and Imaan Hammam, for dinner.

Betty slipped into a white sundress and headed down to the hotel’s restaurant. Jughead was already there when she arrived.

“Hey.” He said starting to get up but stopped when she began to shake her head.

“Don’t stand, please.” She smiled awkwardly as she took her seat. She tried desperately to think of something to say. “Thanks for recommending me for this. It’ll be really good for my career.” She finally managed.

“You’re the best model I’ve ever worked with other than the greats; Cindy, Linda, Naomi, Gisele. It’s not fair the new wave get all the attention just because their moms were famous models. Sometimes the photographers have to fight for the fresh faces, the ones that are models, not just beautiful girls.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Wait, how old are you? You didn’t shoot Cindy Crawford and Naomi Campbell in their hay-day, did you?” Betty asked her brow furrowed together.

He laughed. “No, no, I’m thirty-three. I did a shoot with those women for Vogue celebrating the first true supermodels though.”

They sat in silence for a couple of moments until the waiter came around and placed a dirty martini down in front of her. She couldn’t help but smile and took a deep breath in. “I just want to say I’m sorry, I was so rude the last time you saw me.” Betty said. “All the anger I felt over the things you said to me years ago and the hurt you caused my roommates just boiled over. It’s not fair. They’re grown women, they made a choice.” She shook her head.

Jughead sighed. “I really had no intent of sleeping you that night.”

Betty raised her eyebrows.

Jughead sighed. “That’s not what I mean, you are beautiful and I’m very attracted to you but I wanted you to come over so I could show you some of my other photography. I didn’t start off in fashion.” He ran his hand through his dark hair.

Betty bit her lip. “Maybe another time you can show me. I would love to see it.” She said taking a sip of her drink.

“Can I ask you another question?” He asked tugging at his white dress shirt.

“Shoot.”

“Why are you a model? You seemed so unimpressed by the whole shebang.”

“I’m doing this to pay for school. I’m going part-time at Columbia. I’m also saving so when I become too old for this work I have a nice nest egg. I want to be able to live a quiet life without worrying.” She shrugged.

“Is that why you asked for more money?” Jughead asked. “For school?”

Betty’s face flushed. “That’s part of it but I kinda asked for more money to piss you off, make you fight with SI to get me.” She smirked.

“That $25,000 came out of my pay.” He admitted.

Betty’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think they would take it from you-”

He shook his head. “Its fine. You deserve it and I was willing to do anything to get you to agree.”

She couldn’t fight the smile that spread across her lips. She looked up at him and met his gaze. He as looking at her like she was the only person in the room, dazzled by her presence. “What are you studying?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Finance.” She took a sip of her drink.

“That sounds really boring.”

“It is but it’s practical and with the world the way it is, you can’t just follow your dreams or your passions. I know I can’t model forever and finance will always be a profession.”

“Do you have a dream?” He asked her.

She smiled. “I want to live in a quiet little farmhouse with someone I love and a hundred dogs.” She confessed.

“That’s a doable dream. All you need to do is find someone you love.”

“And a farmhouse. And a hundred dogs.” She looked up at him with a grin pulling at her lips.“What’s your dream?” She questioned.

“I’m living it.” She said with a smirk.

“This is all you want?”

“Maybe one day I want to fall in love with someone who accepts me, someone who matches me. I just haven’t met her yet.” He took a sip of his scotch. “Until I do, this life suites me just fine.”

“Are you type to fight against love?” She inquired.

He gazed at her. “I hope I’m not. I hope after everything I’d be the type of guy who would go for it.”

Betty gave him a reassuring smile and place her hand over his without thinking. He looked down at it and then back at her, mild shock on his face caused by the tender gesture.

At that moment Emily and Imaan showed up and Betty pulled her hand away. The four of them shared a meal, drank more than they should have and discussed what the next three days held.

The next morning Betty was up at 5am to get into hair and makeup. She spent the rest of the day frolicking around in barely there bikinis with Emily and Imaan in crystal clear waters and white sand beaches.

The next day Jughead shot Emily and Imaan separately and devoted the entire last day to shooting Betty. It was an easy shoot.

“Just be the girl next door.” He winked at her as he brought the camera back up to his eye.

“I thought I needed to be sexy.” Betty said, her fingertips raking through the surface of the water.

“The girl next door is sexy. We all want to get with the good girl we see dancing in bra and panties through our bedroom window.” He snapped a few more photos. “The voluptuous girl with the great mouth may be the fantasy but you’re the dream.”

Betty looked down, blushing, a small smile pulling at her lips. Jughead snapped another photo and looked down at the screen. “Beautiful.” He whispered looking back up at her. They made eyes at each other until a PA cleared their throat snapping both out of their daze and they continued with the rest of the shoot.

That night Betty paced her room deciding what to do before they left on different flights the next morning. She was deciding whether or not she wanted to make her relationship with Jughead a little less professional.

She called down to the front desk and ordered a bottle of red wine. She put on light wash jeans short and a white tank top with no bra and headed down the hall to his room, took a deep breath and knocked.

He was shirtless and in a pair of well worn jeans which hung off his hips when he answered the door. “Betty.” He said with an undertone of shock. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

She showed him the bottle. “Do you want to show me your photographs? Unless you’re busy.”

“No.” He answered almost too quickly. “Come in.”

She took a step into his hotel room which was nicer than hers. She bit back her annoyance with Sport Illustrated and walked over to the small kitchen, looking for a corkscrew. She uncorked the wine and poured them both a glass. “You wanna show me some of your work before you got into fashion? I have to be honest, I’ve only see your work in the industry.”

“Fashion is where the money is. Time loves a gut wrenching photo but they certainly don’t want to pay for it.” He walked over to the couch were his laptop was open. “I got sick of risking my life. It wasn’t for nothing but I guess I’m a selfish person. I decided photographing beautiful women was better than waking up every morning wondering if I was gonna die.”

She sat down beside him, curling her feet under her butt, leaning towards him.

He opened a folder and showed her photo after photo he took while he was in the Middle East shooting the Iraq War. “I was 18 when the war started and I was too cowardly to be a solider so I decided to go and document it.”

He showed her photos of soldiers silhouetted in smoke, soldiers in action jumping from helicopters, helping the wounded onto trucks and planes. He also had photos of an Iraqi child crying while walking through rubble lined streets, a woman holding her dead son and civilians cowering in corners, weeping.

They were beautiful but he didn’t shy away from showing the horrors of war and he didn’t glorify one side over the other. He showed what horrors each side committed against the other and sympathized the the noncombatants caught in the middle. 

He flew past one photo and she stopped him, putting her hand on his arm. “Wait, what’s that one?” She asked placing her glass on the table and leaning forward.

Jughead swallowed hard. “Um, I was stationed with a platoon and we were in area of Iraq that was going to be bombed by the U.S. that day. The only problem was no one told us. By the time we figured it out the only thing we could do was run for cover.” He rubbed his face. “We found a small crawlspace close to the ground and hoped for the best. The soldiers were freaking out knowing that we were probably going to die. So I took one last photo and this was it.” The photo contained six soldiers with their eyes closed tight, half of them were praying. Some had tears running down their cheeks. You could see the brick at their back, the low ceiling above them and it was nearly pitch black. The only thing lighting the area was the flash from the camera. “We were there for a day and when we emerged ours was the only building, for as far as I could see, with any structural integrity.” He leaned back. “I stayed for two more months, caught a ride home and started doing fashion.”

“That’s an insane story.” Betty exhaled after holding her breath the entire time he told it.

“It might be why I’m so hard on my models. They get paid so much to do so little and they do nothing but complain. Even more so now and they aren’t even good at it. It’s all bored expressions and dead eyes. I’m so sick of photographing the Hadid sisters and Kendal Jenner.” He rubbed his eyes and fell back against the sofa.

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Hey, the Hadid’s have been kind to me.” She grinned. “Is there anything you still like photographing?” She asked.

He looked over at her. “I love photographing you.” He answered without thinking and mentally cursed himself for using the word love.

Betty couldn’t help herself when she leaned in and pressed a kiss onto his lips. It was sweet and chaste at first, both testing the waters to see if the chemistry the both thought was there actually existed. Finally Jughead cupped Betty’s face pulling her close to him, encouraging her to straddle him which she eagerly did.

She weaved her hands through his hair as she rolled her hips into his searching for much needed friction.

He moaned before parting from her. “Aren’t you afraid you’re just going to become another one of the girls I’ve photographed?” He asked placing kisses down her long neck.

“I’m not too worried.” She breathed. “Something tells me I’m not going to be able to shake you.” She laughed before looking down and capturing his mouth with hers. She ran her tongue over his bottom lip and he met her in the middle, their tongues rolling over the other.

Betty took her shirt off and tossed it on the couch beside them.

His hands went to her breasts palming them in his large, slightly calloused hands. He lightly rolled and pinched her nipples between his fingers. She mewled at the contact as her nails dragged down his muscular arms. He lowered his head to take a nipple into his mouth, pulling and teasing it with his teeth and tongue.

She leaned forward, panting from his touch as her hands went for his jeans button. “Jug, I want you.” She purred, unzipping his pants as far as she could.

He lifted her off of him and stood, running into the other room and running back with a metallic square in his hand. He let his pants drop to the floor leaving him completely naked and on display. “Can I take your picture?” She giggled as she stared at his long erect cock.

He grinned but blocked her when she went to reach for his camera. “You can take a thousand pictures of me later but now, now I need you.” He said pulling her shorts off her long legs leaving her just as naked as he was.

He rolled the condom over his length and positioned himself in between her legs, sinking himself into her wet core. She gasped at the sensation, wrapping her legs around his waist, wanting him to go deeper. Jughead built a rhythm, getting faster with each penetration until he was pounding into her. The angle he was at allowed him to rub up against her clit with each thrust, bringing them both to the edge of orgasm.

“Jug!” Betty choked out as she came, clenching around him as she dissolved into the pleasure of her climax.

Jughead joined her moments later as he bit her shoulder.

They were still for a few moments before Jughead pulled out and collapsed on the couch beside her. “You’re heading back to New York tomorrow, right?” He asked, his breathing still erratic.

She nodded. “I have class and probably a few other shoots to do. I have you to thank for that.” She laughed looking over at him.

He shrugged. “I have a place in the city. If you need a quiet place to study, you are welcome to it. You can crash there. I mean having seven roommates can’t be easy.” He was rambling.

“Are you going to be there?” She asked.

“I was thinking of changing some things up, I’ve been in L.A. for too long.” He looked over at her and grinned. “And if my muse is going to be in New York, then New York is were I need to be.” He leaned over and kissed her, picking her up and caring her into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated.


End file.
